


Root for us, Agent.

by ipreferlemonpie



Category: Original Work
Genre: Boy Love, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Slash, super powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-16 00:30:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1324987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ipreferlemonpie/pseuds/ipreferlemonpie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kind of sequel to "You wish he had killed you". Can be read as a stand alone.</p><p>You feel your hand pull the trigger. You expect white-hot pain, but only darkness comes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Root for us, Agent.

**Author's Note:**

> You have no idea how hard it is to write on a phone... And post and edit in it.

"You love him, don't you?" The question leaves your mouth before you can stop it. The man ("Boy!" Your mind screams.) looks surprised, lavender eyes widening in shock  
"Is it that obvious?" He asks after a while.  
You smile kindly, "your eyes kept drifting towards him the whole time you were in the same room." A blush fights its way to his face as his hands start fidgeting, nervous.  
There's a long silence in the gray, interrogation room. The room would be completely bare if it weren't for the metallic table, the two chairs and the see through mirror on the wall to the right. You know your superiors are video taping the whole encounter. You were supposed to be one of the best in your field of work. Your manicured hands look too pale against the silver surface of the table, your red nails too bright, like your hair. The boy is staring right at you now, taking you apart bit by bit. He was allegedly a prodigy, one of the most intelligent humans to ever be born, until the date.  
"Is this part of the protocol, Agent?" He's challenging you, his eyes are closed up. "Didn't know you asked the victims about their love life, now."  
"I want to understand."  
"Why?" He stares at you suspiciously, his frown deepening in the process.  
A frown of your own blossoms in your freckled face, pursing your red lips as you look for an adequate answer. "I want to know, to understand how you came to love the man that held you at gun point."    
He looks up at the ceiling as his arms snake around his body, as if they were the only thing keeping him together at the very moment. You put your notepad down as you cross your legs, you fold your hands over the table, and wait patiently.  
After a few minutes, it seems he has found the words. "Everyone assumes he just waltzed into my life one day and tried to kill me."  
Your eyes narrow. This was new information, the boy and the man hadn't spoken a word about what had happened three days ago. Your superiors had only been informed about who had employed the assassin and from what they had investigated no one had ever seen the assassin before.  
"We met a year ago," the boy looks back down at his lap, where his hands rested. "I knew the moment I saw him that he was dangerous, and by the time he started a conversation with me, I had already made a verdict."  
"If you knew he was a danger to you, why didn't you report him to the police?" You uncross your legs, and you wrinkle your nose in confusion. "I don't get it."  
"I didn't do it because I didn't want to," there's nothing but sincerity in his expression. "I wanted to die. I was bored and tired and lonely, and  I knew nobody was going to miss me if I just disappeared. I'm an orphan, for God's sake, and my friends don't like me that much either. So if I was going to die, at least, I wanted to choose the way I was going to go.  
"He was beautiful, and charming and so clever... And he did something no one had ever done in my whole seventeen years of life."  
"What was it?" He's not looking at you anymore, he's looking past you, as if watching a film.  
"He wanted to know me."  
"Wasn't it part of his work?" You feel bad at first, for asking this question, but he seems unfazed.  
"Yes," he admits. "At least, it was for the first three months. He was supposed to earn my trust and kill me, but he didn't. He stayed longer than he should, and I fell in love...  
"I realized I loved him two months after meeting him, and it took me a heartbeat to realize he wasn't going to love me back," he sighs and crushes his eyes shut, as if in pain. "But I didn't care, as long as he acted as if he did, as long as he made me feel loved... I didn't mind."  
"Did he ever realized that you knew his secret?"  
"Yes, after all, he is more intelligent than me," he smiles softly. "He knew, and he could have disappeared or killed me as soon as I realized, but he stayed. I think he was happy in those brief months, at least, I knew I was."  
He shuts off again, and looks down at his fidgety hands. He pulls down at his sweater and you hear his feet shuffling as he accommodates himself in a better position.  
"When the day came, he told me everything and then held a gun to my forehead," his eyes are red with unshed tears. "I asked him to kill me. I told him I wasn't afraid, and I wasn't, I didn't even blink as he undid the safety. But he didn't fire. He didn't want to kill me... If it hadn't been for that blasted maid!" His voice breaks, and a sob gets past his lips. You feel a knot in your throat, the sight before you breaking your heart. The boy was so in love.  
After he seems to have calmed himself, he continues. "I was his job, his target. At not killing me he was risking it all... He was throwing his life away just to give me a chance, even if I didn't want it at all.  He may not be a good man, but he was a great one... He's not evil. So don't ask me to testify against him, because I won't."  
"He was going to kill you, Darcy," you lean in, resting your forearms on the table. "He's no good. He played with your heart."  
"Because I let him! I wanted him to!" His voice rises and his nostrils flare in anger. He's also leaning in, he's too close to you, too close for comfort. You didn't like it when people invaded your personal space. He takes a deep breath to try and tranquilize himself. "I love him. He's everything I have left. My parents are dead, my friends don't care enough. He's the only one I have so, please, don't take him away..."  
You bite your lip; you had always been a sucker for romance. "There's nothing I can do to stop the trial."  
"Then, root for us, Agent," Darcy whispers.  
You blink a couple times, surprised. "Pardon me?"  
He nods to the message written on the table. When had that happened? He hadn't moved his hands the whole time they had talked! Yours eyes flick to the mirror on the wall, you know your superiors are watching the whole scene, but they would never be able to see the message, so you look down and read.  
 _Help us escape. Act as a diversion._  
" _How_?" You whisper back; your long, red hair covering the right side of your face.  
Darcy grins, too much teeth to be sincere. All the sadness and the nervousness seems gone, now replaced with mirth. "You need not worry, Agent. Just root for us, after all, we're the smartest of our generations." As in afterthought, he adds: "The likes of us tend to get away with what we want... Must be our charm."  
Something was undeniably wrong. It was as if he were a different person, as if his personality had changed in a split second. "I don't understand..."  
"Of course you don't, Agent," his grin widens. "You lot claim to be so smart, but you're all so very stupid." You frown, your mind is screaming danger, but you can't move. "You had the wrong man all along."  
Your eyes widen, your whole body seems paralyzed, except for your right hand, which is reaching to your holster, taking the gun out and pressing it to your temple.  
You hear surprised yells in the other side of the mirror.  Soon, there's a voice talking through the speaker on the farthest left corner. "Agent Kelly, what is the situation. I order you answer me now, Agent Kell-"  
The next thing you hear is an ear breaking scream. It pierces all the way to your brain. You listen to the ruckus outside, you can't do anything else. More screams, gunshots, yelling, and glass breaking.  
"I'm sorry, Agent Kelly," the boy in front of you says without an ounce of remorse.  
Your hand takes the safety off and you flinch when the door bursts open, you hope it's someone who will help you, but Lady Luck is not on your side today. In comes a handsome young man, ink black hair and mismatched eyes. The assassin, you realize.  
"Darcy," the man frowns, his voice is almost reproachful. Your eyes go back to Darcy; awe and love and adoration written all over his face.  
"Ian, I was just having fun."  
"We have to go, love," Ian nears the table and gently strokes the top of Darcy's head.  
Darcy sighs and closes his eyes, his white-sandy hair falling over them. "Okay." Your breath quickens. "Good bye, Agent Kelly."  
You feel your hand pull the trigger. You expect white-hot pain, but only darkness comes. The last thing you hear is:  
"Root for us, Agent."

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any suggestions, I'm willing to listen. :)


End file.
